


Where Are You?

by Kawaiicoyote



Series: It's Better This Way [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek Has Feelings, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Feelings, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Hurt!Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M, Major Character Injury, Miscommunication, One-Sided Relationship, Trigger for medical setting, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiicoyote/pseuds/Kawaiicoyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You haven’t even left the house have you,” it’s in no way a question. It’s all statement wrapped in alpha fury. Oh boy is he in T-r-o-u-b-l-e, with a capital T.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Are You?

**Author's Note:**

> First of all this one has taken me about three days to write. I'm not very satisfied with the end, but at the same time I am. I apologize if it's not up to par.
> 
> This is very roughly proofread, again I'm sorry for that.
> 
> So the story behind the inspiration behind this will be at the end notes. Hope you read that far enough to get it. Or you can skip to the bottom and find out first. Whatever floats your boat.
> 
> Again you guys that have stuck around so far are amazing, your support does wonders for me.
> 
> Edit: this will probably be my 4th time trying to edit this. I wanted to state that any medical references I've made are from personal experiences when dealing with my parents in the hospital. I've taken a few things directly from them to an extent. If I've gotten them wrong please feel free to tell me, I only write what I've experienced. I also put a trigger for medical settings because if you're like me then even setting foot in a hospital or dealing with things like that will send you into a literal panic.
> 
> Now, read on!

When you research you tend to let time get carried away from you, or at least that’s how it is with Stiles. In retrospect he knew that researching different types of wolfs bane and mountain ash before a pack meeting was a bad idea. With between digging through Google and sifting through sites and then sifting through those to try and see which ones were legit or not, it’s time consuming. And even then a lot of the information is a hit or miss with accuracy.

So really, he shouldn’t have been doing that kind of research, but he did. And that’s how he finds that he’s an hour late for the pack meeting. Well, he doesn’t find out until Derek starts to blow up his phone. First Derek shoots him a few text messages, which Stiles figures can go ignored, but after the third phone call he decides to pick up, on the fourth ring.

“Where are you,” Derek growls over the line, not even giving him the chance to say hello. If Stiles were a true beta, or hell anyone else, he would probably have been terrified of that tone of voice. But he’s not, well, not too bad anyway.

Stiles glances at the clock on his computer screen and winces at the time. While the pack meetings aren’t a formal event or anything series, they still count as bonding time. Something that Derek takes seriously.

“I’m almost there,” Stiles says as he shuts his laptop and tries to find his keys as quietly as possible. Though he must not be quiet enough because Derek literally growls at him.

“You haven’t even left the house have you,” it’s in no way a question. It’s all statement wrapped in alpha fury. Oh boy is he in T-r-o-u-b-l-e, with a capital T.

He sighs and gives up trying to move around discreetly, making a noise of triumph when he spots his keys, just a glimmer of silver, sticking out from under a pile of clothes that’s under his bed. For the life of him he has no idea how they managed to end up there. But he doesn’t have time to play detective, well, yes he does, because he still needs to find shoes. Two shoes, that makes up a matching pair, but he’s not being very lucky tonight.

“Dude, Derek,” Stiles huffs in frustration as he trips over himself trying to stand up and tug on a sneaker and cradle his cellphone without dropping it. “I’ll be there in like five minutes, chill would you?”

Derek freaking outright snarls over the phone and Stiles ends up face planting into the floor, no doubt getting rug burn to his cheek. Miraculously the call doesn’t get dropped.

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek snaps and then there’s dead air. Stiles pulls his phone back and looks at it, his face still smashed against the carpet. _Call ended_ flashes on his screen and then goes to his home screen.

Derek was mad enough to hang up on him. That little shit.

He shoves himself up into a sitting position and yanks his other shoe on while muttering every curse word under the sun. For a moment he wonders if Derek’s sneezing yet, remembering from somewhere that when you sneeze out of the blue then someone somewhere is talking about you.

Grabbing his keys he stomps out the door and only just remembers to lock the front door on his way out.

He slams the door to his jeep a little too forcefully and can’t even bring himself to care all that much. Because Derek is mad at him for being a little late. It’s not like none of them have been late before. And it’s never been a big deal before now either. So he wonders what’s changed.

It occurs to him that maybe Jennifer is attending the pack meeting and Stiles frowns. It’s not like he’s taken to avoiding her or anything and it’s not like he has anything against her being pack, it’s just, he hates how hard he has to try and act like everything is okay when sometimes, most the time, it’s not.

Stiles flicks on the radio and turns it up way louder than he should. Usually music can help him get out of his head, so he tries to follow along with the words in his head and then belting them out loud when silently following along won’t help.

He drums on the steering wheel, taps his free foot, sings louder but it doesn’t stop his thoughts from coming. Doesn’t stop him from being jealous of how easy Derek is with Jennifer. He knows they’ve had their heart to heart, but it doesn’t stop that little voice in his head from saying it’s not fair and he was there first.

Stiles snorts at himself and reaches to turn his radio up even louder, which he knows his dad will be hearing about in the form of complaints from stuck up old timers later on. But right then he just doesn’t give a damn.

His phone starts going off in the passenger seat. It’s just a small chirp and a buzz that he just barely hears over the din of his radio. It’s a text message, followed by two more. He looks at the clock on his dash and glares. Of course he’s hauling his ass and it still isn’t good enough. Stiles is almost tempted to just turn around and go home and say fuck it so he can settle down to some good ole mind rotting television without the pack, or Jennifer his mind ads quietly.

Then his phone starts to ring. He looks down into the passenger seat where his phone is and sees Derek’s name flash across the screen, and rolls his eyes.

“Dammit I’m on my way,” Stiles mutters to the phone and steps his foot down on the gas pedal. If he goes just a little faster he can make it there before Derek gets too much madder at him. He wonders if Derek would get mad enough to kick him out of the pack. The thought makes him feel sick.

As he barrels down the road, he doesn’t even notice that the four way traffic light is on the fritz. He doesn’t even notice the pickup truck as speeds into the intersection. Stiles is half way through when the head lights catch his attention and he turns his head and all thought goes from his mind.

At first it doesn’t even register when the truck collides with him, only the too loud sound of a horn and metal crunching and glass shattering. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut when he feels himself free falling and then everything goes black.

0oo0o0

Derek glares at the phone in his hand. It’s been an hour easily since he last talked to Stiles on the phone. Now though, when he tries to call, it goes straight to voicemail. He has no idea what could have happened to him since then.

In the other room the pack gather around the entertainment center, piled onto the couches and the floor. Most of the pizza is gone and the snacks are already getting low even though they’ve only gotten through the first movie. He can hear the DVD player being opened and then everyone starting in at once on which movie should be next. Lydia’s vote for the Notebook is instantaneously shot down, again, like it was the first time.

 Derek doesn’t bother finding out which movie wins and instead dials Stiles number again.

He’s torn between being pissed off and worried when again, it goes straight to voicemail. For the moment his anger is the reigning victor.

“Dammit,” he growls and yanks the phone from his ear and stabs at the end button with his index finger. Now is one of the times where he wishes that he had an old fashioned landline, with a phone with a receiver that he could slam down.

A hand at his back helps relieve some of the tension in him but not nearly enough. He turns to find Jennifer, for once in t-shirt pair of jeans and barefoot, looking as worried as he feels.

“He’ll turn up,” she reassures him. It’s not exactly a lie, but she doesn’t know that he’ll turn up. It does nothing to help ease his mind, but Derek doesn’t tell her otherwise. Instead he looks down at his phone and debates trying to call him again.

Jennifer reaches to lightly cover her hand with his. “Why don’t you try and relax some Derek and watch the movie with everyone?”

Derek shakes his head and clenches his jaw. He can’t relax when he just knows something is wrong, he just can’t figure out what yet.

Jennifer sighs and lets her hand drop away; he can feel the worry and frustration coming off of her in waves. He knows exactly how she feels.

In the other room someone’s cell phone goes off, he can’t tell by the ringtone just who it belongs to since the members of his pack change their ringtones as often as the wind changes. Though, his ears perk when he hears Scott and then feels absolute dread when his heart rate skyrockets.

“Derek!” Scott thunders from the other room and he knows it’s bad.

0oo0oo0

Jennifer forces Derek to let her drive and he really doesn’t fight it. His main concern is to get to Stiles, in one piece, and he knows that if he were to get behind the wheel it wouldn’t end well.

When they pull up to the hospital he barely lets the car slow down before he’s yanking the door open and bolting across the parking lot and storms into the hospital. He doesn’t even look to see who all followed them to the hospital. He briefly hears Jennifer calling his name, but for the first time, he completely ignores her.

The lobby is busy, patients roaming around in pain, children crying. It’s enough to make his head spin but he makes it to the nurse’s station and grips the edge of the counter with white knuckles.

“Stiles Stilinski,” he grits out to the nearest nurse who looks visibly startled. “I need to know where Stiles Stilinski is.”

“Are you family?” The nurse asks as soon as she gets her wits about her.

“No, but,” Derek is cut off by the nurse holding a hand up.

“I’m sorry sir,” lie is a lie is a lie. “But since he’s a minor I’m not allowed to give out any information about him.”

“Listen,” he growls at the petite little nurse in pink scrubs and a bad blonde dye job, the sound more wolf than human. It doesn’t even register how close he is to wolfing out right in the middle of the bustling lobby, if briefly registers though how the nurse is starting to back away from him.

“Derek!”

He whirls around to see Melissa marching towards him, holding a few medical files. She looks tired and irritated and relieved all at the same time.

“Where is he?” Derek asks, anxiety threatening to take over. Melissa takes him by the elbow as soon as she’s close enough and starts leading him down the corridor, waving away the younger nurse’s protests as she does so.

“Is he okay? “

She stops just short of a waiting room and a quick glimpse inside he can see Sheriff Stilinski sitting in one of the hard plastic chairs that line a wall next to a drink machine and snack machine. He has a cup of coffee gripped between his hands but the man makes no move to drink it. Derek starts to feel a new wave of panic creep up his spine until Melissa squeezes his elbow a bit and gives him a half smile. It gives him a glimmer of hope that maybe things aren’t that bad.

The two of them step into the waiting room, which is thankfully empty of anyone else. John looks up when they get close enough and the rises, dropping the full cup of what Derek assumes is cold coffee into the trashcan next to him.

Derek feels close to ripping his hair out when he repeats, “Is he okay, what happened?”

John rubs the back of his neck and just shakes his head, apparently lost for words.  Derek turns to Melissa and is tempted to just shake the answers from her, but knows that’ll only get him escorted from the building and he really doesn’t feel like scaling the outside walls and climbing in through a window to search the hospital himself. But he would, nothing short of being detained would keep him from ripping apart the hospital apart to find Stiles. The realization is startling.

Melissa looks at John, as if asking permission to say anything, and John gives a curt nod before sinking back down into his previously occupied chair. For the first time he notices the Sherriff in his uniform.

“They just finished working on him,” She starts out calmly and slowly and Derek already feels like the only thing keeping him up is her grip on his elbow. “Stiles was in a pretty bad car wreck. Thankfully he was wearing his seatbelt or it could have been a lot worse.”

From his spot in the chair as he sinks down into it. “I don’t see how it could be much worse.”

Melissa actually whirls on the Sherriff and jabs a finger in his direction. “Your son could be _dead_ right now John, so I think it’s safe to say _yes_ it could have been much worse. You could have been planning a funeral instead of buying get well cards.”

Derek’s sure he looks almost surprised as the Sherriff does and actually takes a step back to look at her. Melissa looks absolutely enraged and to be honest, in that moment she’s the scariest thing he’s ever seen. She’s always been the prime example of professionalism even under the worst pressure, so to see her snap and let that all fly out the window, he knows Stiles must be really bad.

John looks defeated and pale as a Ghost when Derek looks back at him. He rubs a hand over his tired face and nods. “I know Mel, I’m sorry… I just… I was there right after the first responders. Do you _know_ what it’s like to see someone shocking your son back to life?”

Derek discreetly moves to lean against the wall behind him before he falls flat on his ass.

“Is he awake?” A voice to his left asks and sees that it’s Scott. He looks as panicked and lost as Derek knows he feels, but he looks a little more collected that he was, his hand clinging tightly to Allison’s hand who’s eyes look red rimmed.

Melissa looks to John and then back to them, her lips in a grim line as she shakes his head. “No, we’ve put him in a medical induced coma. He’s had some head trauma that caused some bleeding and swelling on the brain. We do this to help the body, let it rest and have a better chance as recovery.”

Derek swears he’s either going to pass out or vomit or something when a hand laces into his. Jennifer looks shaken and he knows that he probably looks wreck. So he squeezes her hand and stands up taller, though with the wall still at his back, and tries to makes his face as blank as possible.

The calmer and collected the alpha look then the less panicked the betas will be, or at least in theory.

“As soon as he shows signs of recovery, the swelling going down,” He tunes back into Melissa saying, “then we’ll start to wean him off the ventilator.

“What’s that?” Scott asks a moment later, Allison squeezing his hand tighter and taking a step closer to him.

Melissa pauses and crosses her arms over her chest. Derek can tell she really hates having to explain this to her son. It’s worse than pulling a band-aid off. “It’s a machine that Stiles is hooked to. It has a tubing system that breathes for Stiles.”

Scott goes a little green around the gills.

“He’ll be able to breathe on his own though won’t he? When he wakes up?” Scott asks and Derek can hear his betas heart beat thundering louder and louder in his chest.

“That all depends on his body, Scott, “Melissa regretfully informs him. The _if he wakes up_ goes unsaid, but is heavily implied. “He not only has the head trauma but he’s pretty banged up. He suffered a couple of broken ribs and a collapsed lung. His body is going through a lot.”

All attention instantly goes to John as he stands up from his chair and heads towards the door. “I need some fresh air.”

“I’ll come with you,” Melissa offers, making to follow him but John halfheartedly waves her off and shakes his head.

“I’ll be okay, just need the fresh air.” Derek knows that every beta is straining their ears listening. But as far as he can tell, the Sherriff isn’t lying, he really just needs to get out of the hospital and be alone for a minute.

When he reaches the doorway Derek reaches around Jennifer and lays a hand on his arm. “If there’s any change before you get back I’ll make sure one of us calls you if Melissa doesn’t beat us to it.”

John stares at him a moment and nods, leaving without another word.

The next few hours can only be described as pure hell. He’s tense, which makes Jennifer and the rest of the pack tense. Every code blue that comes over the intercoms for ICU nearly send them into fits until Melissa either rushes to the waiting room or texts Scott that it has nothing to do with Stiles. It helps ease their minds a bit but it doesn’t help completely.

Derek for one won’t feel at ease until Stiles is out of the hospital mouthing off at him and threatening to make them watch Dark Knight Rises again. And at this point he’s willing to have a whole goddamn Batman marathon if it means that Stiles will be okay.

They’ve moved to the ICU waiting room now. It’s bigger than the previous one, with a handful of chairs and couches that fold out into beds for families that are unwilling to leave their loved ones. Throughout the day people come and go, but at any given time there is no fewer than fifteen people in the space, with its outdated wallpaper and smell of old coffee and disinfectant.

After Derek sends most of the pack away, because it’s a Saturday and they’ve been there all night long and the sun has long since risen, he sits in one of the plusher couches with Jennifer curled up at his side. He’s tried to get her to go home and sleep or eat or something, but she insists she’s fine and will go home when she’s good and ready.

He’s torn between being glad she’s there with him and wishing she really would go home and give him some space to properly freak out.

With the waiting room mostly quiet aside from a couple of hushed conversations and the usual noises of a hospital, Derek allows himself to sink down into the couch and close his eyes. While he wants more than anything to just catch a few minutes of sleep, he fights it and focuses.

He focuses on sounds, focuses hard on the heartbeats of the people beyond the restricted doors where you’re only allowed to go back at certain hours for a certain amount of time and only a certain amount of people. And while visiting hours are soon, for Derek it’s not soon enough, and although no update is a good update it makes him even more uneasy.

From what he gathers there are at least twelve patients admitted in the ICU, Stiles included. Their heart rates are easier to pick up because they’re slower, so much slower, than the rest of the people. Some of them vary, but most are the slow and steady to the point of being frighteningly slow. It takes him too long to find Stiles, but when he does he hones in on it and clings to it for dear life. It’s slow, like the others, and it’s slower than he’s ever heard before even slower than when Stiles naturally sleeps. But the rhythm is distinctive and there and steady and it’s enough to ease the coil of tension in him. With his eyes still closed, Derek follows the easy beating and concentrates on it, making sure that it doesn’t drop lower than it already is.

Derek doesn’t even realize he’s dozed off while listening to Stiles heart until he’s carefully being shaken awake. His eyes fly open and he sits straight up, just managing to reel in the growl that threatened to break free from his mouth.

“What time is it?” He asks, rubbing his sleepy eyes and looking around to see people getting up and heading towards the double doors that are open for once. It makes him sit up a little straighter.

Jennifer gives him a tired smile and nods to the doors. “Visiting hours just started. Two people per visit so get moving mister.”

Derek stares blankly at her and she huffs raising a small Styrofoam cup to her face as she nudges his foot with hers.

“What about the Sher_”

“I already sent for him. He’ll probably be in right after you, so get going and see your boy,” she says and then takes a seat on the couch and draws her knees up to her chest. Derek raises but pauses and turns to give her a look, raising an eyebrow in question.

Jennifer is having none of it and sends him on his way, leaving him feeling confused as hell.

Completely bypassing the nurses’ station he follows his scenes. Underneath the smell of sickness and overall sterilized smell of the ward he catches the faintest bit of Sties unique scent that gets stronger with each step he takes.

Outside the last door Derek pauses. He knows Stiles’s in there without even needing to look at the medical chart attached next to the door. The door is partially cracked open and inside the lights are dimmed.

There’s a moment where Derek just stands there, frozen outside the door. He’s not sure if he’s ready to see Stiles like this, not matter how badly his mind is throwing itself in a frenzy at him to take the two little steps and get inside the room.

So tamping down his anxiety he does just that, pushing open the door just enough to allow him to slip inside.

People say that even though you _know_ what to expect you’re still never quite prepared no matter how much you tell yourself you are. Derek finds himself in that position when he closes the door behind him. The room is so quiet, besides the beeping of machines and the mechanical inhale and exhale of the largest machine of them all besides Stiles bed.

Among the crisp white blankets and sheets Stiles lies so fucking still, with wires and tubing all around him, breathing for him, monitoring his vitals, dripping synthetic chemicals into him. Derek’s eyes zero in on the tubing tapped to the side of Stiles mouth and he’s glad for the chair beside the bed because he isn’t so sure of his ability to stand up unassisted much longer.

He’s not sure how much time passes, with him sitting numbly in the most uncomfortable chair he’s ever sat in and watching the slow rise and fall of Stiles chest, before his attention is drawn away by the door opening.

The Sherriff closes the door behind him and Derek notices that he’s no longer in uniform.

“Hey,” he mutters awkwardly to Derek who nods and then rises from the chair and offers it to John who shakes his hand and moves to the other side of the bed. They both stand on each side of him, tense and anxious, like they’re both waiting for him to suddenly wake up. Which with the way Melissa had explained earlier, most likely won’t happen as soon as they’d like.

“This is my fault,” Derek says, unable to take the silence building in the room or the whirl of the ventilator or the guilt that weighs him down every time he looks at the Sherriff.  He’s looking at Stiles but he can feel John’s gaze on him. “If I hadn’t gotten so mad at him for being late or yelled at him to hurry up this wouldn’t have happened.”

When Derek looks up he can see how furious John is, his anger just barely held in check. The man takes a very deliberate breath and Derek can see his hands fisted on the railing of the bed.

“I think you need to walk away, Derek,” he says with just a reigned in calmness. Derek doesn’t blame him one bit and nods, giving Stiles one last lingering look to Stiles, and then heads back out into the lobby.

He’s surrounded by the pack as soon as he steps out of the double doors, because of course they would ignore him and come back. To his left Scott is a buzzing mess of nerves and anxiety and he nods him back. Scott doesn’t even hesitate and dives through the doors.

“How is he?” Lydia asks towards the back of the group. The doors open behind him again and Derek moves deeper inside of the waiting area, taking up his previous spot beside Jennifer, who hands him a cup of coffee as soon as he sits down.

It burns his throat on his way down.

“About the same I guess, I don’t know.”

Lydia sits primly in a chair across from him and the rest gather around accordingly, she has a calm calculating look on her face.

“Did they not give you an update?” Isaac voices, not even looking at him but instead at the doors Scott has disappeared through.

He sighs and sinks into the chair, trying to find a comfortable position, and shakes his head. “No, the Sherriff told me to leave before anyone came in to give us an update.”

Instantly all eyes are in him and Derek knows what’s to come next, and he really doesn’t want to have to answer them.

It’s Jennifer who voices the question that he knows they’re all dying to ask. Low blow, having the Alpha’s girlfriend ask.

“Why would he do such a thing?”

Derek shrugs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Because it’s my fault that Stiles is in here, okay?”

He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know that he’s confused everyone. When he doesn’t elaborate he’s glad that they don’t ask him to, though Jennifer’s eyes linger on him questioningly. For the moment, Derek ignores her.

Not too long after, a steam of people starts to trickle reluctantly from the double doors. Scott, followed by the Sherriff, are the last ones out. There’s no surprise when Scott veers into the waiting area, looking pale as he immediately heads to sit next to Allison, or when the Sherriff bypasses them completely. But this time he doesn’t even stop to say anything to any of them like he usually does.

This time, Derek knows for certain, it’s because of him.

The next few days come and go and Derek finds himself alone in the waiting area for the first time, aside from the other families. He’d demanded that the rest of them go to school and he’d text them if there was any change, for the good or bad. It was a surprise that he even had to push Jennifer into going into work.

There’s vast improvement in Stiles, but he’s still on the damned ventilator. And Derek won’t lie, it scares the absolute shit out of him, but he tries to keep his emotions in check. No need to make the pack even more freaked out because of him. He’s already done enough damage.

Every few minutes he finds himself checking the time on his phone, then checking the clock on the wall which is five minutes slow. It’s driving him crazy having to wait for the doors to be opened. It’s getting nearer to time and Derek finds himself growing even more anxious to get back, his knee jiggling up and down nonstop, when he spots the Sherriff coming towards him. It makes him freeze, because with all the radio silence that’s been between them in the last few days nothing good could possibly come from what the man is about to say to him.

Derek says nothing and for the longest time John says nothing either. He looks tired and more haggard than he’s ever seen the man, not that Derek could blame him in the slightest.

“I wanted to apologize to you,” John finally says and Derek looks at him dumbfounded. “The way I’ve been treating you hasn’t been fair at all.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, sir,” Derek immediately says, meaning every bit at him. Because if he was in the Sherriff’s shoes, he’d be furious at him too. John gives him an _I’m so tired of your bullshit, Hale_ look that it has Derek, alpha male supreme, shrinking into his seat.

“And yet I’m still going to apologize to you because you can’t be held completely accountable,” It’s clear that John holds him a little bit responsible, so does he, but also that maybe he’s forgiven him some. Really Derek will take what he can get even if he doesn’t deserve it. But instead of arguing, he gives a swift nod.

When the doors open for visitation they stand at the same time, but when John stops Derek he knows he’s really not going to like whatever he has to say.

“Go home Derek,” John tells him and cuts him off before he even gets the chance to open his mouth. “Go home and change clothes, or eat, hell grab a shower and sleep in your own bed. Everyone has gone and done that at some point, _including me,_ except you.”

Derek tries his best to stare a hole in the ground.  “I really don’t need to.”

John laughs and claps a hand to his shoulder. “See that’s where you’re wrong, you may not _want_ to. But you need to and most importantly you’re going to.”

Stubbornly Derek stands to his full height, chin tilted up in a show of dominance even though the Sherriff still has a good inch of height on him. John mirrors his exact position and frowns, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hale, do I have to escort you off the grounds to get you to do what I say?”

“You’re off duty,” it’s a lame petulant attempt that John just raises an eyebrow at and scoffs.

“I have my badge and my gun and it helps that most of this staff knows my face and won’t blink an eye at my authority.”

Check and mate.

Derek deflates and shoves his hands into his jeans pockets; he knows when he’s been defeated. John claps him on the shoulder and gives him a triumphant smile that looks so much like Stiles.

“Now get out of here, or do I have to call that damn uncle of yours to come collect you?”

Derek glares and shakes his head and heads off towards the elevators and stabs the button. He only hopes that he doesn’t miss much while he’s gone.

0oo0oo0

Stiles wakes slowly, in increments instead of all at once. His head is swimming and he feels dizzy even with his eyes shut. As he gains consciousness he begins to realize that everything aches and hurts, his head is pounding, and he feels weighed down. It’s all confusing and he doesn’t know why he isn’t waking up like he should.

Slowly, he blinks his eyes open. His room is dark and blurry, he can’t really make anything out. When he raises his arm to rub at his eyes, he’s even more confused when something tugs painfully at his skin.  

Blinking rapidly enough of the room comes into focus to realize he’s in a hospital room. It’s then that he’s conscious enough to realize he can’t draw in breath properly and goes into panic mode. Beside the bed different monitors start to go off, beeping loud and shrill, it does nothing to help the rising panic.

A moment later Scott of all people bursts through the door. It’s enough to help I’m calm down but he’s still in a panic about why he’s in the hospital and why he can’t _fucking breathe_.

Scott lays his hands on his shoulders and carefully holds him down. It’s then that Stiles realizes he’s talking to him.

“Stiles listen to me can you hear me?” He wants to tell him that he’s not deaf dumbass but nods anyway. “Okay good, the nurses are coming but you have to calm down. You got a breathing tube or whatever so it’s okay you actually can breathe, or that’s what mom says.”

Scott’s babbling and it would be funny to him but he lets his words sink in and tries to relax and calm down. It makes sense now why he can’t really breathe, but then again he is breathing, so it’s not like he’ll die from lack of oxygen. Or so he hopes.

There’s a bustle of movement outside his door and then Melissa is barging into the room much in the fashion Scott had. She has a look of pure relief on her face and geez, way to make a guy feel like he wasn’t dying or something.

“Thank God,” he can hear her mutter under her breath as she flits around the room, looking at print out sheets that have collected in a tray under the monitors, she shines a light in his eyes that is damn killer on his head but he can’t really voice that opinion just yet.

Scott hoovers, just out of the way, and Stiles can see that he’s got his cell phone out and it tapping away furiously. It makes him wonder just how bad he really was. His attention is drawn back to Melissa who leans on the nearest bed railing and gives him what he can only call an irritated smile as she shakes her head.

“You scared the _hell_ out of us, Stiles,” She says, giving him a lingering look and then moves to gather what he can only guess is his medical chart and then grabs Scott by the ear, like only a mother can do and tugs him towards the door.

“I’ll be back soon dude, I promise!”

“Stiles needs his rest, I’ll be back in with your dad and the attending physician if you’re not asleep.”

That confuses him even more as he sees the door shut behind him. Does he need his rest? Does he feel tired? Then he realizes his eyes are super heavy and closing already and, oh, yeah okay maybe he is really tired.

The next time Stiles wakes up he’s a little less groggy and in a lot more pain. He groans but that’s painful on his throat. The breathing tube is still in and Stiles just really wished he could pull the damn thing out himself. But he has a feeling that would only result in him being restrained and that’s just not something he’s really into.

“You’re awake,” a voice says to his left and he’s surprised to see Jennifer keeping watch over him, perched in a reclining chair, a cup of coffee between her hands.

He’s not in the same room as he was in before he notices. Jennifer scoots to the edge of her seat and places her cup onto a rolling tray and then focuses on him, giving him a warm smile. Stiles is kind of glad for the tube so he doesn’t have to return it.

“Your dad just stepped for a minute and everyone else is around here somewhere, but I think Derek didn’t want you to be crowded when you woke up so he’s kind of put a rule about there not being a lot of people in here at once.”

Well that surprises him. He wonders where Derek is anyway.

She must be part mind reader because she chuckles and leans back in the chair again. “I made him go home to shower and change, and yes he tried to argue with me that he could just do that in the bathroom you’ve got, “ She nods towards one of the doors behind her, “but then your dad threatened to have him banned from visitation until further notice”

Stiles tries to laugh but quickly decides to stop when pain in his chest tells him he really shouldn’t attempt that for a while.

There’s a knock at the door and in comes Mrs. McCall and a doctor that he’s never seen before, and then the last one in, his dad. His dad who looks like he could cry and well damn he must have been real bad if everyone is making this kind of fuss over him.

“Mister Stilinski,” the new guy booms and it makes him wince. The guy must have never heard of an _indoor voice_ before. But then again everything about the doctor looks loud and big, from his height to the gold chains that peek out from his deep blue scrubs and white lab coat, to super tight pony tail that holds back his long jet black, too black to be natural, hair. “Good to see you’re finally awake again, very good.” Stiles detects some kind of accent but can’t really grasp what it is. The guy isn’t even looking at him and is instead looking at the medical charts. Stiles looks at Melissa and she makes an apologetic shrug at him.

“We’re hoping to get that mean ole ventilator out sometime today, how does that sound?” Melissa asks stepping closer to the bed and takes one of Stiles hands in hers and gives it a pat. Stiles perks at that and nods as enthusiastically as he can. She grins at him and replies, “Thought so.”

Eventually they go through the motions of checking his vitals, checking for any kind of distress, seeing what his pain levels are. And okay he totally lies when he says he’s not in much pain, but he’s so over feeling groggy and weighed down from all the pain medication they’ve been feeding him. He can deal with a little bit of pain for a while.

What seems like ages passes before Melissa follows the doctor out of the room with a wave and a promise to be back soon. Jennifer even quietly excuses herself with the pretense of getting more coffee, but Stiles can see from his bed that her cup is still full and steamy. The door closes behind her with an audible click and for the first time he’s left alone with his dad.

He expects the yelling to start any minute now. For his dad to just start yelling and screaming his head off, to tell him how disappointed in him he is, what a dumb ass thing he’s gone and done. But none of that comes. What does come is his dad pulling a chair up close to the bedside and wearily sinking into it.

John just stares at Stiles and it makes Stiles feel uneasy. Guilty and uneasy.

“You scared the living hell out of me, son,” John says with a rough voice as he leans back into the chair previously occupied by Jennifer. Stiles wants to say he knows, how it’s all anyone can say, but with the stupid tube in he’s SOL for saying shit. It makes him mad and frustrated. Stiles is a talker by nature, ask anyone who has lived in Beacon Hills the last seventeen or so odd years. So making him incapable of talking even temporarily, is griping his grits. “Promise me you won’t do whatever that was you did again?”

Since he can’t really say anything to it yet, he nods and that must be enough for John with the way he sighs and gives him an almost there grin. “I don’t believe it for a minute but that’ll do.”

Stiles glares at him, which only results in his dad laughing.

The moment is good but short-lived when another knock comes through the door. This time a different set of nurses who give him warm soft smiles which must be a mandatory thing to have when you work at a hospital.

“Alright young man, how would you like to get that machine off you?” The one nurse asks him and Stiles nods since really, why are they asking him questions when he can’t answer them. Though, he guesses they could all be rhetorical.

The other one, visibly younger by far steps up to him and draws his attention to her.  “Now we can do this one of two ways. You can be awake while we take it out, or we can sedate you and you can catch a little nap.”

Stiles really, really, doesn’t want to be put back under with medication. But then he thinks about being _awake_ for the extraction and just _hell_ no.

“Sedation?” The first one asks him and he nods quickly, not wanting to even think about it anymore. “Alright then, I would have picked the same thing.”

She reaches into the pocket of her scrubs and pulls out a syringe. Stiles watches every move she makes. From cutting the flow to the regular drip he’s been given, and then injects something that fucking burns when it gets to his veins.

“Now try to relax and before you know it you’ll have that out.”

Stiles tries to smile or laugh or something but he can’t really manage as the drugs start to kicking in. He keeps his eyes on the one nurse as his vision starts to get hazy and his eyelids start to droop. Out of the blue he wonders if this is how Isaac felt when Kali drugged him. It’s not a good thought to go out on and it sends a brief panic through him, but then everything goes black and the thought is lost.

0oo0oo0

To say Derek is furious would be an understatement. He pushes the speed limit a little more than he should on his way back to the hospital, which considering the circumstances, he knows he shouldn’t do. But he ignores that, he’ll heal.

It had been a complete surprise when he woke up from his nap, or more or less passing out as soon as his face hit the pillow, to see his phone blown up with missed calls and text messages. All of them relating that Stiles is awake, Stiles is breathing on his own, Stiles is pulling through with flying colors.

Now when he pulls into the parking lot of the hospital he’s pissed at himself for leaving in the first place. But he also has growing anxiety of seeing Stiles awake. He wonders what he’ll say to him, or what Stiles has to say.  But Derek doesn’t linger on those thoughts when he steps into the lobby and bypasses the elevators in favor of the stairs which he bounds up, taking them three at a time.

He’s breathless when he gets to the second floor, the only information that Scott had texted him.

“Melissa!” Okay so he didn’t really mean to shout that loud, and ignores the glare the other nurses at the nurses’ station give him. Melissa jumps and spins on her heel, then glares at him too.

“He’s in 215,” she huffs and then Derek is bolting down the hallway, hoping that he’s at least going the right way. Which he finds out he is when he spots the room number and then comes to a complete stop in the middle of the hallway.

The door to Stiles room is halfway open but he can only see the foot of the bed and Isaac’s profile as he sits in a chair. Surprisingly none of the betas realize he’s there, and if they have they’re choosing to ignore him for the time being.

He takes a step closer to the door and doesn’t even have to concentrate to hear the strong thrumming beat of Stiles heart. It’s so much stronger than the last time he heard it, and it makes him feel almost weak with relief.

There’s no point in dragging his feet further, because now is not the time to chicken out. Now is the time to face the music. He knocks on the door, because that’s what you do in hospitals, and takes the first step inside.

All attention goes to him, conversation coming to a standstill all at once. But all he can focus on is Stiles looking at him, sitting up on the bed, and breathing on his own though it looks like he still has some form of oxygen on him.

There’s a gash above his eyebrow that looks like it’ll definitely scar, and he’s riddled in bruises from what Derek can see of him, and he’s still attached to a few IV drips, but he’s alive and that’s all that matters.

“What, no flowers?” Stiles asks from where he sits in the bed and gives him a wavering smile. Derek doesn’t know what gravitates him towards Stiles but in the next minute he finds himself being propelled forward and then, as carefully as he can manage, pulls the younger man into a hug, his arms completely wrapping around him.

Derek knows for certain that he doesn’t imagine the way Stiles pulse stutters a bit, but he ignores it for now. For now he just wants to hug him and feel that he’s alive and breathing and going to be okay.

“I take it you’re not going to kick me out of the pack then, or is this just a way to lure me into some false sense of security?” It doesn’t really sink in at first, but when it does Derek jerks back, his eyebrows flying up and then down into a scowl.

“Why would you ask something like that?” Derek growls, the thought of Stiles being out of his pack for any reason instantly setting him off.

It’s Scott who wedges his way between Stiles and him, putting distance between them. “Derek, chill.”

Derek shakes his head but forces his anger away. “Who said you were getting kicked out of the pack?”

Stiles shifts on the bed and shrugs, looking anywhere but him. “You were so mad at me that night. I just assumed you’d relieve me from being pack.”

As gently as he can, Derek moves Scott out of the way and reaches to turn Stiles face enough to look at him. “You’re a complete idiot.”

Stiles tense and scowls at him, under Derek gives a nervous laugh. “Stiles, you hold this pack together if you haven’t noticed. We _need_ you.”

He watches as Stiles swallows hard and looks at him disbelievingly. “You’re just saying that.”

He shakes his head frantically. “No, I’m not. Everyone in this room needs you.”

Stiles looks at him still like he doesn’t believe him before asking, “Even you?”

“Especially me,” Derek answers without a bit of hesitation. Something flickers in Stiles eyes, it makes him look like he wants to say something, like before at the dance. But just like before the moment passes and he gives him a small smile.

“Guess we were both kind of stupid.”

Derek laughs at that because what can he really say to that. It was his fault for getting Stiles in the mess he’s in in the first place. Though he doubts Stiles would let him voice that for long.

Not soon after things resume the way they were before Derek came in. Everyone goes back to their previous conversations, Isaac and Scott fight over what program they want to watch on TV. It leaves a nice feeling in the air.

He settles onto the couch with Jennifer and lets his arm drape around her shoulders. She’s quiet and he doesn’t know why but when she looks up at him and smiles and bops the tip of his nose he decides that for now he won’t question.

When he looks up from her he finds Stiles looking at him. There’s a brief moment when he feels something, just a flicker, but then Stiles is drawn into the argument with Scott and Isaac and the moment dissipates.

It occurs to Derek that he really is missing something here. That it’s not just his imagination. Something is starting to shift between he and Stiles, but when Jennifer shifts closer to him on the couch, he starts to doubt if it’s something that he needs to explore or leave alone.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So the story of why I wrote this is my mother and I were running errands the other day and I was trying to figure out what I was going to write next to get things going to show that Derek does have feelings. We were on our way home and the traffic started to thicken up some and I noticed up the road a ways were police lights and ambulance lights and at the place where we're at it's a high wreck area so I wasn't all that surprised. As we were passing the wreck I looked and saw it, one of the vehicles in the wreck was jeep identical to Stiles and the story started forming in my head after that. This is the end result of it.
> 
> Remember, kudos and comments are love. And again I'm sorry to put Stiles through all this crap. I promise good things are going to happen to him sooner than you expect, even if it's not what you're expecting. If that makes sense.


End file.
